Chapter Text
[moodboard by Andy]
The Territories [map by Andy]
Jeon Jeongguk ✶ Park Jimin
[art by Blue]
✶ ☽ ✶
The reverberating sound of the summoning drums jolted Jeon Jeongguk from a state of deep sleep.
“Wake up, wake up,” he murmured groggily, reaching out in the darkness to touch the two bodies that were sharing the bed with him for warmth in the midst of a bitterly cold winter’s night. Fumbling, Jeongguk pulled back the furs that he had swaddled himself with, hearing moans and groans from where he had been laying his head only moments ago, but the drums were still sounding, and the camp was about to come alive with the light of the moon as guidance, so Jeongguk smacked two separate legs as he rolled off the bed.
“Let’s go,” he croaked as he found the matches that he needed, and he struck one and lit the candles on the table beside the bed. When he looked over his shoulder in the amber glow, he saw a mess of black bedhead, and then Min Yoongi pawed back the furs he was using for warmth during slumber, squinting as he propped up on his elbows. His soft and sleepy lavender scent permeated the air as Jeongguk popped open his trunk, crouching down.
“It has to be an attack or a boundary line crossing.” From the other side of the bed, Kim Namjoon sat up and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, carding his fingers through his thick black hair multiple times and then reaching for his glasses. “That’s the summoning drum for us, no pups included, right?”
“Must be,” Jeongguk muttered with a slight frown, agreeing with the beta as he pulled on a long-sleeved shirt for warmth. “I have to hurry. I’ll see you both there.”
The drums continued to sound as Jeongguk shrugged into his furs and tied back his shoulder-length black hair into a messy knot. Behind him, Yoongi and Namjoon began to crawl out of bed and reach for proper clothing in their own clothing trunks, fumbling around one another as Jeongguk shoved his feet into his boots. Yoongi and Namjoon both had their own individual one-room homes, but to Jeongguk, they were pack; that meant that they could share a space and sleep together for warmth in the winter, especially since all three of them were unmated. Jeongguk had a two-room home on the edge of camp that he had built with the sweat of his brow and months of hard labor, ensuring that none of them ever slept alone in the winter months.
When Jeongguk pulled open the front door, the wind whipped his hair around his face, so he pulled his furs tighter around his shoulders and sniffed, heading for the path between the Head Alpha’s home and the infirmary towards the blazing bonfire that was growing in the distance, right in the center of camp. There was a scent in the air that was familiar to Jeongguk, one that had been embedded in his memory since his first hunt—blood.
Blood and death.
From all directions, other members of the Jeon clan were emerging from their homes, but as Namjoon had said, there were no pups clinging to their parents’ legs. Being of age (being able to shift into wolf form or being a sixteen-year-old beta) was a requirement for this gathering, which meant that something serious had happened, and if Jeongguk was smelling blood and thinking about the ancestors, then surely he would be rising early tomorrow to prepare for the journey. It would be unavoidable.
“Nice night for it.”
“A bonfire, or an attack?” Jeongguk asked, old snow crunching beneath his boots as Jung Hoseok fell into step beside him, having just emerged from the small home he shared with his mate, Kim Seokjin. “It must have been sudden. No one came to consult me before sounding the summoning drums. You can smell it, right?”
“Blood. Yeah,” Hoseok agreed, his lemongrass scent souring slightly. “Seokjin is already bracing himself, but I told him that the most he should expect is a dead body.”
“For now,” Jeongguk muttered darkly as they approached the growing fire. The Jeon clan was large, composed of at least a dozen smaller packs and several families and nearly 110 people in total. At Jeongguk’s birth twenty-three years ago, the clan had been half the size. Now, Jeongguk was the young alpha leader of his own small pack, having broken away from his parents a year ago to form his own in hopes that they would finally see his worth as their only son.
Their only son who was alive.
“fragment I” ←→ jóhann jóhannsson
“Gather around. Quickly,” said a deep voice from across the fire, a voice that guided an entire clan in their decisions, a voice that announced both battles and births, a voice that made commands which everyone followed. The clan gathered around the fire, most finding a seat on the ground if benches weren’t available, but Jeongguk circled the group in the direction of that voice and stopped short, spotting the first person he always checked on when the summoning drums sounded.
“Are you okay, Mother?” Jeongguk asked quickly, placing his hands on his mother’s shoulders and kissing the side of her head. Yoonhye reached across her chest to squeeze one of Jeongguk’s hands on her shoulder without a word, and Jeongguk affectionately straightened the furs that were wrapped around her shoulders. Despite the repetitive hell his mother had witnessed over the years and the deep loss she had experienced, despite being mentally and emotionally checked out half of her days, Jeongguk loved his mother immensely, which was not something that many clan members could say about their birth parents.
“Jeongguk.”
“Yes, Father.” Jeongguk straightened up and looked to his right.
“Hush, please. I’ll begin,” Jeon Jaeseop stated, and then he held up his hand to silence the quiet chatter. Everyone fell quiet with one gesture from the Head Alpha, and Jeongguk shifted uncomfortably, still standing in a protective stance behind his mother as his father commanded the crowd.
“Our night watch has yielded a concerning result,” Jaeseop stated, and Jeongguk glanced over his shoulder as murmurs began to spread, because two men were marching towards the bonfire with something in their arms. Jaeseop stepped aside, and with a harrowing and unceremonious thwump, the body of a dead wolf hit the frozen ground, its head lolling, its throat ripped to shreds that seemed to bend in the light of the fire. Blood glistened in the embers.
“Which clan?” a voice called out.
“A wolf of the Kang clan. Found north of the river at the southwest border of our neutral land,” Jaeseop called out, and the murmuring grew more worried. The Kang clan controlled most of the northwestern territory, whereas the Jeon clan occupied the southeastern land. There were small neutral pockets of uninhabited and relatively unexplored land around territories, a buffer of sorts between the clans, where clashes were not meant to occur. “The night watch identified only this body, but the scent of death carried far beyond to the northeast. An attack has occurred.”
“He was the attacker.”
Jeongguk knelt down on the ground as he said this, examining the wolf head to toe, and the signs were clear from just a quick glance. The wolf’s throat had been nearly torn out, but its teeth told a different story. Jaeseop paused as several people close enough to the body stood up to get a closer look.
“Blood on his teeth,” Jeongguk continued, raising his voice as he drew in a breath, letting the myriad of scents untangle in his brain as he analyzed them. “Multiple victims. He was the attacker. I would say that the Kang clan were the instigators. This wolf just wasn’t lucky enough to make it out alive. Or he was injured and this is some sort of sick and twisted mercy killing.”
“What business does the Kang clan have so close to the neutral land border?” someone asked. “And if not our clan, then who were they attacking?”
“If I may…”
Namjoon circled around the fire. Kim Namjoon, born to the Kang clan twenty-six years ago, exiled by the same clan after presenting as a beta because his parents’ disappointment was stronger than their love. Their first-born son was not an alpha, and therefore, he wasn’t worthy of remaining in the clan, so on a cool autumn night, they had abandoned him with nothing but the clothes on his back. Sixteen-year–old Namjoon had barely survived as a rogue beta in the neutral zone, but when winter had come and the snowstorm had covered the territorial lines, he had stumbled onto Jeon clan territory. Now, ten years later, he was their most brilliant historian and a talented linguist, self-taught as the product of a clan who had not believed in a proper education for their alpha males. And he was pack to Jeongguk.
“With territory lines shifting so frequently over the past twelve months, it could be argued that they impeded on Song clan territory,” Namjoon said with a small frown when he saw Jaeseop nod. “But I think we need to consider what Head Alpha Jeon and the rest of the clan have been discussing since the first day of winter when our first hunt far north yielded surprisingly scarce results.”
“A rogue pack,” Jaeseop restated for everyone, lifting his foot and using the toe of his boot to roll the dead wolf slightly to one side, shaking his head. “And the Kang clan seems to have knowledge of it that we don’t. Thank you, Namjoon.”
Namjoon nodded and bowed his head once, stepping back and catching Jeongguk’s eye as he melted into the rest of the crowd.
“If there is indeed a rogue pack or clan that exists near our territories, then they have been attacked, and the peace has been violently disrupted. Tomorrow at sunset, when the aftershocks of an attack have settled, we will search for survivors and attempt to either rectify the situation, or determine how the Kang clan should be punished, if at all,” Jaeseop continued. “Jeongguk.”
“Yes.” Jeongguk stepped forward.
“You will lead a group of my choosing,” Jaeseop said. “Search for survivors first.”
“Yes, Head Alpha,” Jeongguk agreed, bowing his head once as his hands curled into fists. As expected. It was common knowledge within the clan that Jeongguk had a knack for navigation and hunting alike. But he had just returned from a grueling hunt last week in which he had watched one of his friends die a horrific death in the jaws of a bear, where he had been the one to carry his friend’s body on his back as he returned to the camp. The dirt was still fresh where that friend was buried, but such was Jeongguk’s life. He had buried many friends.
He had buried his brother.
“Please prepare and be ready to depart at sunset,” Jaeseop declared. “In the morning, the elders will complete an additional patrol of the border, and the rest of us will fortify our boundaries and prepare the meat for curing before the next snowfall arrives. The skies have been grey. We can expect more snow soon. Mating season is on the horizon. Return to your beds for the night. Jeongguk, remain and assist with the body.”
“Yes, Head Alpha,” Jeongguk said again. The fire crackled and popped as dozens of people rose to their feet and began to meander back to their beds. Several people circled close to the Kang wolf’s body to get one last look, murmuring to one another. The air was thick with worry, and Jeongguk knew that it was because any tension amongst clans was dangerous, given their past histories. Women and children had been taken from their camp and never returned. Blood had been spilled on their own land. Screams and cries of agony had ripped through the trees of their territory. The past seemed meant to repeat itself, and so Jeongguk watched as several people hurried back to where their pups slept soundly.
“I can volunteer to come with you tomorrow.”
“You know damn well he won’t let you,” Jeongguk muttered as Hoseok crouched down with him. Together, they hoisted the dead wolf into their arms, staggering sideways away from the fire towards the western edge of their camp. They both knew the drill—an enemy dead on their land meant that a message could be sent to the instigators. This wolf would have a stake driven through its body so that it could be displayed close to the neutral zone as a warning.
“I’m fucking sick of being told I can’t go,” Hoseok complained, grunting as he shifted the wolf in his arms while walking through rows of homes. “Seokjin is sick of it, too.”
“You’d think your mate would want you safe at home,” Jeongguk said with a small laugh, setting the wolf’s body down on a sled that was kept near the livestock pens and the root cellar of their camp that they could pull the rest of the way. Hoseok bent and grabbed one of the torches lying to the side that was wrapped in an old rag, and he bent and dipped it into the bucket of oil. Jeongguk reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches, striking one one and lighting the rag, watching it ignite in a blaze.
“My mate will be triggered by the mere thought of an attack happening,” Hoseok said as he grabbed one of the ropes at the front of the sled. Jeongguk tossed a long stake and a mallet onto the sled and grabbed the other rope to pull. “Which is probably why your father is going to make me stay. But Seokjin wouldn’t care if I went out for something like this, triggered or not.”
“Better me than you,” Jeongguk said, roughly tucking his hair behind one ear. “Don’t bother asking. It’s not worth it.”
“He’ll make you take something.” Hoseok glanced over through the light of the torch. “Seokjin.”
“He always does,” Jeongguk replied, snow still crunching beneath his boots as they traipsed northwest towards the neutral zone. Seokjin was twenty-eight and born to the clan, and only a year ago when his grandmother had passed away, Seokjin had become the clan’s healer. He was brilliant and compassionate and witty, but Seokjin came with an underlying sadness that would likely never disappear until Soojin returned. If Soojin ever returned.
Seokjin had been born as a twin—he the omega, his sister Soojin the alpha. Jeongguk could still remember how much fun they had all had growing up, how vibrant Soojin had been, how Jaeseop had been adamant that his first-born son Junghyun should mate Seokjin just to have Soojin as part of their immediate pack. But the Kang clan had attacked ten years ago over nothing more than an insignificant territory dispute, taking as many women and children as they could and pillaging until everything was ash and flame. Soojin had been among the women, and to this day, Seokjin still didn’t know what had become of his twin sister. So every single time that Jeongguk left the clan to hunt or even to complete his watch shift, Seokjin made him take something that had belonged to Soojin with him, something with her rosemary scent to it. And Jeongguk always obliged, because he understood how grief could overwhelm someone to a point of no return.
When he and Hoseok finally crossed the rickety bridge of the river and reached the line of the neutral land, Jeongguk was the one who pounded the stake into the half-frozen ground. He and Hoseok hoisted the wolf’s body up together with matching grunts, and then they drove it down sideways onto the stake, shoving the tip of the stake between flesh and bone as best as they could and ignoring the cracking bones and rough slide of flesh.
“You can smell it,” Hoseok agreed. “Death. It’s fucking potent as hell. To the north.”
“Yeah, but why?” Jeongguk emphasized, twirling the mallet in one hand and stepping back to admire their handiwork. Hoseok stepped forward and roughly turned the wolf’s head, and Jeongguk heard another crack, but the positioning was important if they were going to send a message to the Kang clan.
“I don’t know. But I don’t like it,” Hoseok said, and Jeongguk hummed in agreement. His wolf was bristling. Jeongguk could feel his skin quietly crawling. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t quite place what didn’t feel right. Was he feeling anticipation or dread? A premonition or just a winter chill in the air?
“There has to be a reason for it,” Jeongguk muttered.
“Yeah, well, the idea that there are rogue packs out there just living their lives in the vast wilderness and we don’t know about them is freaking me out,” Hoseok said, picking up the ropes for the sled again and wrapping them around his calloused hand securely. “It feels like a threat to our territory and our safety.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s why the Kang clan attacked,” Jeongguk deduced as they began the arduous two-mile walk back towards camp. “Maybe they were feeling threatened.”
“By a rogue pack?” Hoseok snorted. “I want to know how many Kang wolves are dead. Must’ve been brutal for them to leave a straggler behind or mercy-kill it. I hope the death toll is at least half the clan. I wouldn’t mind gutting a few of them and serving their meat to the bears. Fucking savages.”
“They’d make good furs,” Jeongguk agreed, and he bumped the fist that Hoseok held out to him.
The camp was quiet when they returned, save for the dying fire and the elders that were still seated together—Jeongguk’s father, Hoseok’s grandfather, and Seokjin’s mother were among them. Hoseok muttered in departure as he gripped Jeongguk’s elbow, and then he deviated and traipsed through the snow and dirt back towards the home he shared with Seokjin. Jeongguk, though, marched right over to where the elders were meeting, choosing to use his privilege as the only son of the Head Alpha to interrupt.
“The Kang wolf has been put on display,” he announced when he approached and sensed the silence. “You don’t think that driving a stake through its body will provoke them when they’ve just attacked another clan and left one of their own for dead?”
“They’ve attacked a clan or pack that we may not even know,” Hoseok’s grandfather stated. “This is why your journey tomorrow will be beneficial.”
“Hoseok wants to go,” Jeongguk said, and he watched the way that the elders all exchanged a look between them. Hoseok’s grandfather was stoic. “I told him that would be the reaction. Who are you sending with me? Because I need to know if my life will be in danger or not.”
“Anyone we send will be sufficient,” Jaeseop replied, but Jeongguk shook his head slowly with a frown.
“We’re dealing with the smell of death and blood for miles and a dead Kang wolf with the flesh of another pack’s wolf in its mouth,” Jeongguk argued. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone here what happens when the Kang clan feels provoked or when they choose to instigate.”
“Siwoo, Hyukjae, and Minwoo will accompany you,” Jaeseop said. “Do not question my decisions, son. Your duty to this clan trumps your personal interests. My word is final.”
“I understand that,” Jeongguk said, “and I appreciate your decision. All I’m saying is that when I went out to the edge of the neutral land with Hoseok, the hair on the back of my neck was standing up. My wolf was aggravated. Something about this doesn’t feel right. I can’t be the only one here who feels it.”
“It feels far too familiar,” Seokjin’s mother agreed, and Jeongguk’s heart sank. She had lost her only daughter ten years ago. Seokjin’s birthday each winter was a bittersweet reminder of what the Kang clan had taken, and how close they had come to snatching Seokjin up as well. If not for rowdy, enraged, and lovesick sixteen-year-old Hoseok intervening after presenting as an alpha only two weeks prior, Seokjin would have been dragged out of the camp by the scruff of his neck.
“It’s likely that the Kang clan has retreated if they experienced significant losses,” Jaeseop told Jeongguk. “One dead member would be enough to send Gunmin running.”
Kang Gunmin—Head Alpha of the Kang clan. A heartless and ruthless son of a bitch, in Jeongguk’s opinion; a warmongering type of alpha who ruled as a savage would and reinforced harsh, rigid roles within his clan. The alphas hunted and gathered and fought one another for dominance, sometimes to the death. The omegas tended to the camp and took care of all the pups and cowered in fear of their leader. The betas were nothing more than slaves if they were even given permission to remain with the clan. Namjoon had horror stories of a childhood that was something out of nightmares. He had been taught how to secure a clean kill—animal and human—before the age of ten.
“What are the chances of them retaliating?” Jeongguk wondered.
“None of this should be of any concern to you right now, Jeongguk,” Hoseok’s grandfather said gently, but Jeongguk bowed his head to the elder and then glanced at his father.
“Respectfully, it should be,” he said, watching his father purse his lips. “But I understand. I’ll get some rest and be ready at sunset. Good night.”
“…Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk only made it out of earshot before he heard his father calling out to him. He slowed down with a quiet sniff, rubbing one finger under his nose as it twitched, and then he pivoted. The rest of the elders were abandoning the fire near the Head Alpha’s home, and Jaeseop was adjusting his furs as he approached Jeongguk.
“I need you to trust all of your instincts tomorrow when you depart,” Jaeseop said, lifting his chin as he surveyed his son. “I’m placing my own trust in you to assess the situation thoroughly. I know why you asked about Hoseok.”
“You send me out like I mean nothing to you,” Jeongguk almost whispered.
“I send you out because you’re the best that we have,” Jaeseop responded, brow furrowing seriously. “I send you out the same way that I sent Junghyun out.”
Jeongguk clicked his tongue and then pressed it to the inside of one cheek, looking away momentarily. There were quiet moments in the camp when he wondered where his parents were, and he usually found them in the temple out in the forest, trying to connect with Junghyun. Five years had passed since the surviving members of the pack that had gone to the frontlines to confront the Kang clan had carried Junghyun back to camp. Five years since Jeongguk had caught his mother when she had collapsed at the sight of her first-born son’s dead body. Five years since Jeongguk had single-handedly dug a grave for his brother because his parents had been too paralyzed by their grief.
“And you don’t worry that one day, they’ll carry my body back to the camp?” Jeongguk whispered. “Mother won’t want to live another day if that happens. And I need her to grow old and grey.”
“One day, Jeongguk…” Jaeseop stepped forward and took Jeongguk’s jaw into one large hand in a tense but somewhat affectionate gesture. Jeongguk stared his father in the eye. “When you’re in my position, you’ll understand the agony of making decisions like sending your only surviving son out into the wild.” He placed his hand on top of Jeongguk’s head, mussing up his hair slightly.
“Then let me in on your conversations and decisions,” Jeongguk pleaded. “I know that it was supposed to be Junghyun, Father, but now it’s me. You have to let me in.”
“When you’re ready,” Jaeseop said cryptically, and then his hand slid to Jeongguk’s shoulder as he gripped tightly. His peppery scent was strong. “Go rest. Enjoy your morning tomorrow. We’ll see you off at sunset.”
Jaeseop walked off. Jeongguk lifted both hands to fix his hair, which was a futile effort. He was about to sleep for only a few more hours before the sun rose, if he could sleep. He turned on his heels and watched his father disappear into the darkness near the other end of the camp where he slept with Yoonhye. There were times when Jeongguk wondered if his father had a grander plan that he wasn’t sharing with his son. Jeongguk spent his teenage years watching his father diligently rope Junghyun in, certain that his first-born son would assume the post of Head Alpha when he eventually moved on from this lifetime. But all of those years of work had been shattered into a million pieces the day Jeongguk had buried his own brother.
When Jeongguk opened the door of his small home, there was no light, but he knew his way around blindly. He kicked off his boots and hung his coat, and then he padded across the wooden floors towards the single bedroom. He could hear Namjoon snoring, but that meant that Yoongi wasn’t around. Namjoon didn’t snore when Yoongi cuddled up to him for warmth, mostly because Yoongi purred when he was cuddled properly and that tended to silence Namjoon.
“Namjoon?” Jeongguk whispered as he lifted the blankets, but Namjoon was dead to the world already. Typical. Jeongguk crawled into the bed and reached his arm out in slow motion, but he felt a void and then Namjoon’s arm. Namjoon gasped and flailed, and Jeongguk laughed softly. “It’s just me.”
“Mm,” Namjoon moaned, and then he rolled over and dragged one of the blankets with him. Jeongguk slid down under the blankets with a smile, and then he rolled towards the center of the bed and closed his eyes.
But he barely slept. He dozed, waking up with every little noise, his mind busy. He drifted in and out of sleep as the room turned into a hazy blue, and then the sun began to rise. Jeongguk groggily threw back the blankets, envying Namjoon as he slept soundly, and then he shuffled over to the back door and grabbed the bucket with its squeaky metal handle. Yawning, he trudged over to one of several barrels that were situated around the camp containing fresh water from the rivers and streams nearby, most of it ice that Jeongguk would have to melt.
“Nice,” he murmured when he slid open the lid of the barrel and saw that there was enough water among the ice to get a bucketful. He dunked the bucket in and hoisted it out with a grunt, and then he carried it back towards the house.
“Namjoon.”
“Huh.”
“Water,” Jeongguk announced, setting the bucket down on the floor inside the house. “Not ice. You’re welcome.”
“You’re my hero,” Namjoon croaked, and then he rolled over to fall back asleep. Jeongguk crouched down, splashed some of the cold water on his face to wake himself up, and then patted it dry with a towel, knowing it was worthless to bathe when he was about to go on a long journey in the evening and see heaven-knew-what along the way. If he was going to get into a confrontation with the Kang clan, surely he would regret bathing. He didn’t need his scent to be clean and pure. He needed to blend in—north, where they were going, was where patchouli thrived in the summer months and all but vanished in the winter. So Jeongguk needed his patchouli scent to be minimal so he didn’t draw attention to himself. He would probably have to mask his scent for weeks upon returning so that no one tracked him, anyway. Scent masking was never a requirement unless lives were at risk or a threat was present to the camp. Jeongguk had a sinking gut feeling it would become a more common practice after this journey up north.
Knowing he was going to be shifting into wolf form later in the day, Jeongguk dressed in nothing more than loose pants and a baggy shirt with his furs, all of which would be left at the drop point when the small pack shifted before traveling further. Namjoon was still stirring under the blankets, and even though he was a beta, Jeongguk could still faintly catch Namjoon’s wispy eucalyptus scent. It was the last soothing thing he breathed in before he opened the front door, jamming his feet into his boots. Propped up against the doorframe, his brow furrowed, because he could hear the distinctive sound of scraping metal cutting through the sunrise. Curious, Jeongguk closed the door behind him, and then he rounded one corner of the house. Immediately, the small exhale he let out through his nose was full of fondness.
“Morning.”
“Hey.” Jeongguk crouched down beside Yoongi, and then his nose wrinkled naturally. “You’re in pre-heat.”
“Mm.” Yoongi poured a little more water onto the whetstone and re-gripped the knife, positioning it to continue sharpening. His lavender scent was stronger and sweeter than normal. He glanced over at Jeongguk, some black hair falling into his eyelashes. He probably hadn’t gone back to sleep after the gathering. “It’s earlier than most of the other omegas, as usual. Lucky me. I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out of the bed last night.”
“Probably didn’t get a chance to,” Jeongguk teased, lulled into quiet by the methodical sound of the knife against the whetstone as Yoongi worked his magic. “Are they slaughtering the pig today?”
“They’re picking one tonight to slaughter tomorrow,” Yoongi corrected him, shaking the hair out of his eyes with a scrunch of his nose and a sniff. Jeongguk reached over and roughly tucked the hair behind Yoongi’s right ear, and Yoongi muttered his thanks before adding, “In time for the New Year feast.”
“Is that why a few of the pups were in with Seokjin yesterday crying?” Jeongguk asked with a snicker that Yoongi matched.
“Hard lesson to learn, handling peppers and then touching your eyes,” he said, shaking his head. “They wasted several peppers. The elders were pissed. They traveled fucking miles to the common market for those. Speaking of traveling…”
Without a word, Jeongguk reached into his pocket and handed Yoongi the knife that he carried with him. He was going to shift into wolf form without question, but one of the pack always carried a small, flat satchel with knives and underwear in case they stumbled across a situation that required being in human form.
“Be careful out there,” Yoongi warned quietly as he sharpened Jeongguk’s knife. “What they were saying last night… I don’t know. Doesn’t exactly sound promising.”
“When I was out at the border of the neutral land with Hoseok last night,” Jeongguk began, plopping down onto the ground and hugging his knees closer to his chest, “I had this feeling.” He gestured to the back of his neck. “Hair standing up. My wolf was aggravated. So yeah, something’s not right.”
“I hate that you can’t just trust your self-preservation instincts and run when shit goes south,” Yoongi complained, handing Jeongguk back his knife and then reaching for the pail of water. He dipped his hand in and scooped some up into his palm, wetting the whetstone again that had already been soaked and then grabbing another knife. “Why is it your duty to run straight into danger and not to protect yourself? Not to be the asshole here, but that’s exactly how Junghyun got killed. He went back for a straggler. It’s just—I don’t know. I’ll shut up.”
“It’s fine.” Jeongguk sniffed and examined the blade of the knife. Yoongi had a history with Junghyun, mainly that Junghyun had turned eighteen and had decided to start his courting journey with Min Yoongi, the most handsome and sought-after omega in the clan and a friend of his. Jeongguk could still remember Junghyun plopping down on his bed one night with a bewildered look on his face, saying that Yoongi had denied his request for courting because Yoongi had no interest in having pups or being intimate since he was asexual, and he knew Junghyun wanted a family.
So, uh… do you think Seokjin would pretend Hoseok didn’t exist just for me?
Junghyun had an obnoxious laugh that had always made Jeongguk laugh. Jeongguk had let his brother down gently, saying that Seokjin and Hoseok were destined to be together and that he had no chance. So Junghyun had turned his attention to Hoseok’s older sister, Dawon, who had grown up side-by-side with Junghyun just like Yoongi had (and Seokjin’s twin sister, Soojin), and Dawon had expressed her interest in being courted. Junghyun had even earned the right to court her in the ritual. But then Junghyun had gone out on that fateful journey with a small pack, and he had returned as just a body.
“Is it really fine?” Yoongi paused again, draping his elbows over his knees and glancing sideways at Jeongguk.
“You’re right. It’s a pride thing, I think,” Jeongguk decided. “Alpha instinct. Protect the pack. Protect the clan. It’s just… this is the Kang clan. It’s always different. I don’t even want to think about what I’m about to see.”
“You’ll be okay.” Yoongi’s smile was crooked and a bit wry. He would probably lock himself in his tiny workshop all day and place a sign up on the door to warn everyone that he was in pre-heat. Jeongguk always hated the seven days when Yoongi was absent. “You’re Jeon Jeongguk. In my eyes, you’re impossible to kill. I’ve tried. Oof.”
“See you later,” Jeongguk said with a grin, since he had just nudged Yoongi hard enough to make the omega topple onto one side. Yoongi scowled, muttered something about “respecting your elders,” but then jerked his head upward at Jeongguk in a gesture of peace and departure as he righted himself.
“If you don’t see me before you leave, you know why,” he replied. “Ask my dads how I’m doing if you want. Or just, uh… yeah.”
“I’ll ask one of them,” Jeongguk said with a small smile. Yoongi’s fathers were scarce in the clan these days and always out and about, but they were like uncles to Jeongguk.
Yoongi had no idea who his real parents were, and he likely never would. Jeongguk’s mother always told the story about how she and her mothers and two other elders and their grown children had been out on a trip to the common market, and on their journey, they had heard a pup wailing in agony. Spring had just begun to dawn, but it was still cold. One of Jeongguk’s grandmothers had rushed over to the sound to find a newborn pup swaddled but abandoned in a rotting tree stump, desperate for warmth and food. So Jeongguk’s mother had carried the newborn all the way to the markets and all the way back to camp. There, the pup had been passed to a young alpha-beta couple who could not conceive. They had named the boy and taken him into their home that very day. And that was how Min Yoongi ended up as an only child to two loving fathers who thought the world revolved around their son.
“I’ll probably stay with them tonight and then move over to my usual spot when it hits,” Yoongi said, wrinkling his nose. Being in heat was his least favorite activity, but from presentation (minus one year when Seokjin had gone into heat at the exact same time), Seokjin had taken him in to help Yoongi through it, and by association, Hoseok had jumped in to help as well. So whenever Yoongi’s heats hit, he spent his time in Seokjin and Hoseok’s home.
“Hopefully I’ll be back by tomorrow for the feast,” Jeongguk said, and then he scuffed his boot in the snow and gave Yoongi a wry smile. “Maybe I’ll see you then.”
“Doubt it. Be safe.”
With the sound of Yoongi sharpening knives fading behind him, Jeongguk headed towards the center of the camp, where clan meetings took place like last night. Because it was the winter season, there were no school sessions for the younger clan members. Instead, as Jeongguk passed through the buildings and came to the clearing, he saw a few of the kids huddling around the fire for warmth, a few with their parents beyond the bonfire where there was food to be had, and a few climbing on the playground equipment that was behind the schoolhouse.
“YAH! FEET FIRST!”
Giggles filled the morning air, and Jeongguk approached the shared meal area to grab a hot cup of tea, watching as Hoseok promptly flipped over a five-year-old girl so that she went down the slide feet first, not head first like her older brother was egging her on to do. Hoseok was one of the clan’s beloved lead school teachers, probably the most popular among the students. His insistence that every single pup should learn how to read, write, and fight was what made him so loved. He taught in shifts—ages five to eight, ages nine to twelve, and ages thirteen and up. Two hours of school each day. But in the winter, it was a free-for-all.
“JEONGGUKIE! WATCH THIS!” the older brother called out when he saw Jeongguk by the fire. Jeongguk grabbed a clean tea mug and raised his eyebrows, considering scolding the young pup for such informal usage of his name, but the familial bond in the Jeon clan was strong. Jeongguk could overlook the informalities. He watched the boy fly down the slide and roll across the snowy, hard ground.
“Impressive!” Jeongguk joked, giving Hoseok a quick wave before turning back to the large pot of boiling water. He chose a little sachet of herbal tea from the box, scooped some water into the mug, and then dropped the sachet into the mug to steep.
“Good morning, son.”
“Good morning,” Jeongguk replied as Jaeseop joined him in making a cup of tea. “Is Mother awake yet?”
“She’s already gone to the temple with a few friends,” Jaeseop answered, and Jeongguk nodded, pursing his lips as he removed the sachet from his tea. Surely she was there to pray for him. “Would you like to join the others in choosing a pig to slaughter for the feast?”
“No,” Jeongguk said gently. “I’ll leave that to the pups.”
“Your mind is distracted,” Jaeseop noted.
“Of course it is,” Jeongguk replied, his tone more snappish than he intended. “We’ve had peace for years. Why now? Why does the air smell like nothing but death? How can it carry so far south that we can smell it here?”
“Something outside of his territory has provoked Gunmin to a point of violence,” Jaeseop said quietly. “Let’s hope that’s all there is to it.”
“We should have left at sunrise,” Jeongguk mused, but Jaeseop shook his head.
“No. The Kang wolf body that the night watch found was fresh. The journey up north to the presumed rogue pack territory is long. The last thing we needed was for you to encounter any of the Kang clan on neutral land as you traveled. That’s the reason for your nighttime departure.”
“We don’t want them to know we’re going to investigate,” Jeongguk murmured, glancing to his left as a group of women entered the central part of camp, having come from the forest where the temple was—Yoonhye was with them. “I’ll see you at departure.”
Jaeseop only hummed and nodded, his eyes trained on his mate as she returned. Jeongguk, with his tea clutched in one hand, began to walk past the play area towards the river that flowed through their camp. He could hear the squeal of pigs in the distance to his left, probably some of the more agriculturally-savvy clan members taking a final look at them before one was chosen tonight.
Most of Jeongguk’s days were spent building, creating things from the Earth’s resources, hunting, or training and fighting with peers or younger pups. There were some days when all he did was curl up with Namjoon and read books. There were other days when he shifted into wolf form and ran around in the forest for no good reason other than freedom. But during the winter, especially with February about to begin and the New Year dawning, the clan was in upheaval, disrupting Jeongguk’s peaceful routine. Mating season was from January to March, but February was the peak. Almost all of the clan’s omegas went into their seven-day heat towards the end of February. The annual clan courting rituals would follow shortly after. Jeongguk would probably go into rut in the next month or two.
The world around him was suddenly mayhem.
“Jeongguk?”
“I’m coming back,” Jeongguk said without even looking over his shoulder. He heard the crunch of old snow beneath boots and the cracking of twigs, and then Namjoon was beside him, dressed warmly and wearing a cloak.
“You don’t have to. I was just coming to see why you were brooding,” Namjoon teased, nudging Jeongguk with a grin as he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt. He, just like Jeongguk and Hoseok and almost every clan member, had black ink tattoos on both arms that were peeking through, ink that told the story of his life. Namjoon receiving the tattoos had been a point of contention among the elders of the clan at first, but it was Jaeseop who had overruled them all, allowing Namjoon to receive the tattoos.
He doesn’t have ancestral ties to us. But he is part of us. Let him create his own history.
“I’m not brooding,” Jeongguk argued.
“Yoongi said you’re brooding,” Namjoon replied, and Jeongguk dragged a breath at the back of his throat in irritation. “You know how he gets when he’s in pre-heat. He can sniff out sins you committed seven years ago on a random Tuesday morning.”
“Do you think…” Jeongguk pivoted, turning his back to the flowing river and walking towards camp with Namjoon by his side. “Do you think my father is using me?”
“Be more specific,” Namjoon requested. “You’re the only son of the Head Alpha, and you’ve proven yourself to be one of, if not the, best fighters and hunters the clan has. The smartest, too, when it comes to being out there in the real world. So… back to my question.”
Jeongguk shook his mug out over the snow, leaving a trail of tea droplets as he walked. “I just buried Jungjin last week.”
“You think you’re going to have to bury one of your packmates after this trip,” Namjoon deduced.
“I better not fucking have to.” Jeongguk paused just short of their camp, which was now bustling, since everyone was awake. “I just don’t get it. Maybe I’m selfish. I don’t know. But he’s sending me out over and over again like he’s not at the temple with my mother multiple times per week trying to connect with Junghyun.”
“I told you that it’s because you’re one of the best we have,” Namjoon repeated. “Your father is probably putting aside his personal feelings about you being his son for the sake of the clan.”
Jeongguk rubbed his lips together, but he slowly nodded, because there was no use in denying what he knew was true. He could voice his displeasure to his friends, to pack, but what remained unchanged was his father’s uncanny ability to lead without emotional investment. That was Jeongguk’s weakness, according to his father—he allowed himself to feel too much.
He was hoping that one day, his empathy would pay off.
“I think maybe I’ll go to the temple,” Jeongguk decided. “It’s been weeks.”
“Good. Gimme that.” Namjoon took Jeongguk’s mug, and to Jeongguk’s surprise, he then shrugged off his cloak. “Take this with you. You’ll need the cloak. It’s cold.”
Jeongguk accepted it without questioning, taking Namjoon’s cloak, and Namjoon walked off without another word. Feeling warmer, Jeongguk detoured to the infirmary, stomping on the wooden step to shake the snow from his boots and cracking open the door. A rush of warmth greeted him thanks to the fireplace in the small lobby. He could hear Seokjin’s voice from one of the back rooms, so he was probably working with someone. Jeongguk just slipped into the scent storage room past the fireplace, grabbed the little drawstring pouch that he needed, and hurried out of the infirmary, tucking the pouch into his pocket.
He crossed the camp unnoticed and began to follow the trail into the woods, enjoying the silence that followed him. Having to wait an entire day before departing after sunset almost made the anticipation worse. Jeongguk still wished the departure time had been set for sunrise. Too much lingering made him antsy and anxious, and he was certain that was why he felt drawn to the temple for the first time in a long time.
The Jeon clan temple was mostly open-air. It was a rotunda, large and made mostly of stone with two steps that led up into it, steps on four different sides of the temple. Within the temple were various shrines—shrines representing ancestral lines, altars with offerings such as plants, fruits, and flowers to honor those who had already passed. There were items at various shrines that belonged to ancestors who had left the physical world, and the open air structure allowed for natural light to flood the space. When it wasn’t winter, plants and greenery flourished within the temple.
“Oh! Hi, Jeongguk,” a sweet voice said as Jeongguk approached. Jeongguk smiled, watching as Haerin and Hyein exited the temple—sisters, seventeen-year-old beta Haerin and fifteen-year-old omega Hyein, both full of kindness and compassion. Their mother had been taken ten years ago when the Kang clan had destroyed the Jeon clan camp, and their father had been murdered that same day for protecting his daughters from being kidnapped. They were always in the temple together to speak to their father and pray for their mother.
“Where’s your coat?” Jeongguk scolded Haerin as the girls exited the temple together. Haerin wordlessly tilted her head to Hyein, who was putting her shoes on and wearing a cloak. So Jeongguk unfastened the cloak Namjoon had just given him, shrugged one of his fur coats off, and draped it around Haerin’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” Haerin whispered, slipping her arms into the coat and bowing. “I’ll return it to you.”
“No rush,” Jeongguk replied, fastening his cloak back on.
“Hi, Jeongguk,” Hyein said, her boots back on. “We lit a fire in the hearth for Father. It should still be warm in there.”
“Thank you,” Jeongguk said with a small bow, passing them both and watching as Haerin shifted the bag on her shoulder, leaning in towards Hyein as they walked away. They had brought something with them, as was custom. Today, Jeongguk hadn’t brought anything to offer up. Typically, he brought something for reciprocity—if he took from the earth, he always offered something in return as a thanks. But all he had brought was himself, so he kicked off his boots and slipped into a pair of temple slippers, many of which were scattered near the stairs of the temple. There were wind chimes hanging, a fountain that was currently dry due to freezing conditions, and a hearth where a fire could be built that had dying embers, just as Hyein had said.
“Oh. Right,” he murmured to himself, kicking off the slippers and backtracking before he entered the temple. He was rusty. It had been too long since his last visit. He quietly set his bare feet on the cold, hard ground, facing the temple, and he closed his eyes while taking a deep breath in, attempting to ground himself and connect with the earth.
It felt impossible.
Jeongguk gave up quickly on finding inner peace and hopped up the stairs, wiping his feet and stepping into the slippers as he braced himself on the entranceway and gazed around the familiar temple that radiated with history. The walls were covered with paintings preserved from centuries ago, telling stories of a simpler time before clans when the territories had been ruled by four major groups—the Madalri people of the west, extraordinary hunter-gatherers. The Osaek people of the south, masters of the water and seasonal harvests. The Hachu people in the east, notable for their large families and connections to humanity beyond wolves. And the Koyterii people, illustriously elusive with a silent language and survival skills unmatched.
The Madalri people became the Kang clan, expanding well beyond their means. The Osaek people branched off into separate clans with ancestral lines everywhere, including the Jeon clan—Jeongguk descended from the Osaek people. The Hachu people predominantly made up the current-day Song clan and ran the common market. And the Koyterii people had vanished over one hundred years ago, fading into extinction, taking with them their traditions and language as they disappeared. All that remained of these four groups were paintings in temples—depictions of battles, the rise and fall of head alphas and omegas, fantastic artwork of beautiful white wolves that no longer existed due to failed forced breeding and extinction.
History.
“cavendish lab” ←→ jóhann jóhannsson
“Hello,” Jeongguk whispered to no one, his temple slippers scuffing against the stone floors of the temple as he approached the altar he wanted to use. Shifting his cloak, he knelt down on the furs that were there to protect his knees, situated directly in front of his family’s altar. Junghyun’s presence was immense. Jeongguk swore he could hear his brother’s laughter as he pulled the matches out of his pocket. He carefully placed some incense into the holder, and then he struck a match and lit the incense, gently blowing on it and watching as the smoke billowed around the sword Junghyun once carried with him. From his pocket, Jeongguk fished out the small drawstring pouch he always carried to the temple that had dried patchouli leaves inside it—his scent. Something all clan members brought to the temple.
“I… know that I haven’t been here recently,” Jeongguk said, speaking in a casual tone as he turned the little bag over in his hands idly. “But I couldn’t think of a reason to honor the ancestors or the earth. Life has just been…” He sighed, knowing that guilt wasn’t a feeling that belonged in the temple. “I’m here because I’ve seen death again. And I know that whenever I reach the north after my journey tonight, I’m only going to see more death. So please…”
Jeongguk paused, taking in the temple before him. He wanted to hear the birds chirping, but the winter air was too frigid. The birds wouldn’t return for several months. Instead, there was snow creeping up the stairs of the temple, disturbed only by the footprints of visitors and ceasing at the entrance, where all shoes were abandoned.
“Please… For all the death that I’m going to see, please show me life, too,” Jeongguk requested. “I’m not sure what that would look like. Maybe it’s not for me to dwell on. Please protect me on my journey. Watch over me and guide me. Remind me that death is only a beginning, no matter what I see. And… yeah. Please show me life. I need to see it. I need to see life flourishing around me somehow so I can believe in something again.”
Jeongguk hesitated for a moment, watching the incense burn, but then he exhaled, eyes closed, and bowed, pressing his forehead to his hands where they were resting on the edge of the altar.
“Show me life,” he whispered. “Set me on the right path. I’m afraid I’ll lose myself.”
Jeongguk slowly sat up, exhaling as he did and turning to stare at his brother’s old sword, which was resting near a pair of gloves that he always wore in the winter.
“How did you do it?” he asked his brother. “How did you do this all the time without losing yourself? Or did you actually lose yourself and you just didn’t tell me? You were only twenty-one. Why did I get to outlive you? You were always better at this kind of thing, Junghyun. I don’t think our father trusts me to lead the clan someday. He trusted you, though.”
Jeongguk was met only with silence. It was always quiet. He felt foolish sometimes in the temple, because his nagging doubts always raged to the forefront of his mind. None of this is real. Your brother is dead. He can’t hear you. No one can hear you. But as he turned his small pouch of patchouli leaves over in his hands while staring at an artist’s sketch of Junghyun from his burial day, all he could think about was that if none of this was real and he was only talking to the open air, then his alarming lack of life accomplishments thus far was his own fault.
Or maybe it was just fear.
Jeongguk extinguished the incense by fanning it a few times and then sticking it into water. Before he rose to his feet, he placed his hand over his brother’s gloves and closed his eyes, hoping that he would feel something. Instead, all he heard in his head was his brother’s laughter and deep voice. He could feel Junghyun’s gloved hands tousling his fur roughly as a brother would, because he had been the first to greet Jeongguk when Jeongguk had returned from his coming-of-age hunt with his father at age eighteen.
Junghyun died two months later.
As Jeongguk left the temple, he made sure to kick off his slippers and hop down onto the cold ground again barefoot, turning to face the temple and silently thanking the earth for its abundance. Then, drawing his cloak tightly around him, he shoved his boots back on and walked back to the camp to find something to eat; surely when it was dinnertime, he wouldn’t be hungry thanks to the nerves.
Jeongguk took a watch shift just after he ate his lunch. Realistically, he shouldn’t have offered, but the only thing that could keep his mind from wandering off to the mystery of death and all its facets was to wield two knives and patrol one of their camp borders, leaving footprints in the old snow as he paced for two hours.
Good enough.
Judging only from the hazy sunlight in the grey winter sky, Jeongguk figured it was time to wrap up his watch shift. His instincts were spot on, because to his surprise, Hoseok was the one who came to relieve him of his duty.
“You’re a glutton for punishment,” Hoseok said as he approached. “There was no reason for you to take a shift.”
“Sure there was,” Jeongguk said with a small smile. “Same reason Seokjin works himself to the bone on his birthday every year.”
Instinctively, Hoseok’s hand flew up to rub his chest, where he had a tattoo of roses right over his heart. He had a mating mark on his neck, of course, but for a lot of the Jeon clan, the tattoo often meant more.
“Just promise me you won’t die,” Hoseok said in his usual crass fashion that Jeongguk deeply appreciated. He didn’t need anyone to tiptoe around him. “I’m not burying you. I won’t do it. And I can’t watch your mother go through that again.”
“Yeah. I’ll do my best to stay alive,” Jeongguk promised with a wry half-smile. He clasped Hoseok’s outstretched hand as clan members always did, and Hoseok pulled him in for a quick embrace, thumping him on the back.
“Be safe, brother. I’ll see you soon,” he said firmly. Jeongguk nodded, squeezing Hoseok’s shoulder, and then he turned and retreated, following Hoseok’s footsteps back towards camp.
The closer he got to camp, the more life he saw. He could already see other members of the clan circling around the camp, fortifying their boundaries for the night. There were a few pups running around and trying to help with evening chores or with any latecomers to the dinner meal that had been offered. Over by the fire with the other elders, Jeongguk spotted his father standing by observing and his mother sitting quietly beside him, drinking tea. Instead of walking over to where he could see three others waiting for him, Jeongguk headed directly towards his mother.
“Happy almost New Year,” he said, crouching down in front of her with a soft smile. Yoonhye lifted one hand and touched Jeongguk’s cheek affectionately, her eyes tired.
“Hello, my love,” she said. “Promise your mother that you’ll be safe tonight.”
“I promise,” Jeongguk whispered, taking his mother’s hand tightly. Every time he left the camp, it was like opening an old wound and rehashing trauma to keep it fresh. Jeongguk often couldn’t leave without seeing his mother first because she always demanded that he stop by before departing. It was the guilt that ate her alive the most, because she hadn’t said goodbye to Junghyun before he had departed five years ago. She couldn’t remember the last conversation she had had with her firstborn son, and it haunted her to this day. Jeongguk knew that all too well.
“Protect yourself and the pack,” Yoonhye said gently, words from the mouth of the mate of the clan’s Head Alpha. “And come back for the feast tomorrow. I don’t want you to miss it.”
“I’ll do my best,” Jeongguk said with a nod. Yoonhye sipped her tea, still gripping Jeongguk’s hand and watching him over the rim of the cup with soft eyes. Jeongguk often found her disassociating from her surroundings, and if not that, then she was in the temple praying to remember every second of her last moments with Junghyun. “Yoongi sharpened all the knives. If you don’t make the liver stir-fry like you always do, I’ll be upset.”
“I’ll have Yoongi help me, then,” Yoonhye said, but Jeongguk shook his head, rising to his feet.
“He’s going into heat tonight or tomorrow,” he said, and Yoonhye sighed in understanding. “Ask Dawon. I have to get going, though. Stay warm. Drink an extra cup of tea and stay by the fire until bedtime if you can, okay?”
“Okay.” Yoonhye rose to her feet, so Jeongguk embraced her tightly, enveloped in her soft geranium scent that had always comforted him as a child. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Jeongguk muttered, and then he set one hand on his mother’s shoulder and glanced over at his father. “Is there anything I need to know or do before I depart?”
“No, no. You’ve done the most important thing,” Jaeseop said, his eyes briefly flicking over to his mate before returning to Jeongguk. “Be a leader, Jeongguk. The other three may be older than you and more experienced, but they severely lack leadership. I need you to step up.”
“Yeah. I’ll try.” Jeongguk nodded, and he held up his hand, fingertips pointed upward. His father clasped his hand firmly, and then they broke apart. Jeongguk leaned down and kissed his mother’s hair before he walked away to the meeting point. He could see Lee Siwoo, Park Hyukjae, and Jeon Minwoo (his cousin) all standing by in the fading sunlight, waiting for their last pack member to join in so they could get going. But before Jeongguk could reach the meeting point, he heard his name being called.
“I was wondering why you weren’t waiting for me there,” Jeongguk said with a tired smile, instantly holding out his hand. With a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, Kim Seokjin approached Jeongguk, his black hair messy from a long day of work in the infirmary, his rose scent sweet and soothing.
“I was worried I’d miss you,” Seokjin admitted, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small square of fabric, because for about a year now, he had been cutting up a blanket that had belonged to Soojin once upon a time, her rosemary scent still clinging to it. Jeongguk accepted the fabric square and briefly held it up to his nose, transported back in time ten years ago in an instant when Soojin had smacked him around like a little brother.
“I’ll do my best,” Jeongguk promised, holding up his hand to Seokjin the same way he had to his father. But Seokjin, although he did grab Jeongguk’s hand, pulled Jeongguk in for an extra embrace that felt like home, just like Hoseok had.
“I know Hoseok wanted to go with you,” Seokjin murmured, still hugging Jeongguk. “And as much as I wish he could, I’m glad he’s not. Something doesn’t feel right about this.”
“Did he tell you about being at the border?” Jeongguk asked, holding Seokjin at arm’s length.
“Yeah. He did. Which is why I’m glad he’s not going,” Seokjin said shamelessly. “I lost my sister. I can’t lose my mate, too. But I also need you alive.”
“Well, that last one is something I can’t promise, but I usually return unharmed,” Jeongguk said with a lopsided grin. “You rarely have to patch me up when I come back from something like this.”
“No, only when you come back from hunting,” Seokjin said disdainfully with a hint of fondness in his eyes. There was nothing more dangerous than hunting, and Jeongguk was controlled but with a touch of recklessness that usually earned him some injuries. He had yet to participate fully in a clan courting ritual, though, because those usually ended in broken bones and blood, albeit punctuated by a bit of exhausted laughter. Jeongguk couldn’t imagine desiring a mate that much to end up in such poor shape, but maybe one day. His mother was already sighing at him in disappointment for being twenty-three and unmated.
Seokjin departed, headed for home to be with Hoseok. Most of the camp was starting to disperse for their own evening activities, which was Jeongguk’s signal to leave. Siwoo, Hyukjae, and Minwoo were all waiting patiently, Minwoo carrying the small satchel across his chest.
“We shift at the drop point by the edge of camp and move together,” Jeongguk said without mincing his words, and his three comrades nodded. “No one breaks formation or deviates unless agreed upon by the group. If we find dead bodies, we leave them there. Nothing we can do. If we find any survivors, we gauge their response to us and go from there. I’m not expecting any, but if so, we’ll have to encourage them to shift to human form.”
“Easier to carry,” Hyukjae agreed.
“And if they’re too injured to shift?” Siwoo asked, still tying back his long hair haphazardly.
“Then we determine if they’re worth saving or not,” Jeongguk replied. “We can’t risk the Kang clan tracking the scent of their kill back to our territory. If they’ve gone in for a slaughter, then we have to be careful with what we bring back. They may want everyone dead, and a survivor would only draw them in. We’ll likely have to mask our scents when we get back, too, just until everything settles.”
“Sounds good. Let’s head out,” Minwoo declared. Together, with Jeongguk and Minwoo in front and Hyukjae and Siwoo directly behind, they began to quietly walk towards the drop point, because chatter was not necessary. Though not as sharp as when in wolf form, their ears were still sharper than the average human, and so was their sense of smell. Jeongguk could smell dead bodies as the camp disappeared behind them. The scent of it stretched for miles ahead to the north, which only confirmed that the way his wolf had been agitated last night had not been in vain.
“God, it’s going to be a carnage,” Hyukjae said, his nose twitching as Siwoo shook his head.
“Five years of peace and now they decide to attack,” he said. “For what?”
“How long was the verbal peace treaty supposed to last between us?” Minwoo asked Jeongguk, because Jeongguk always knew more about what was going on between different clans and territories thanks to his father. Still, he knew the bare minimum.
“It was supposed to be indefinite,” Jeongguk replied as he bent and pulled off one of his boots while the others walked ahead, yanking off his wool sock after it. His foot hit the cold ground, and a familiar sense of calm flooded his system. As he worked the other boot and sock off, he added, “We gave up a huge chunk of our territory to shut them up after they attacked us. But we all know that Kang Gunmin isn’t a man of his word.”
“He must’ve found a good target,” Minwoo said, frowning. He was familiar with the Kang clan’s horrific patterns as well—he was almost thirty, and five years ago, he had lost his soon-to-be mate alongside Junghyun. In fact, she was the one Junghyun had doubled back to get, and they both ended up dead. “I just hate that we have to be the ones to check it out.”
“Like Kang’s shit is our responsibility,” Hyukjae said irately, shaking his head as he casually pulled his shirt off over his head.
“If we want to survive, then it is,” Jeongguk replied as a warning as they reached the drop point. He, too, removed his shirt and balled it up to toss down with the rest of his belongings. Like many members of the clan, he had two full sleeves of black-ink tattoos in patterns that represented his lineage, his life, and the teachings of his clan. They extended across the top portion of his chest, and all of them had been hand poked. And again, like many other young clan members, he had a spot empty over where his heart was, waiting for his future mate’s name or some kind of symbol for his future mate to fill it. Jeongguk was quite content for his space to remain empty.
“Remember what I said,” Jeongguk repeated as he stepped out of his pants and folded them up messily. There was no room for modesty among pack mates in journeys like this. “We stay together. No breaking formation. Signal if there’s a survivor worth saving. Otherwise, we assess the scene and we go home.”
“Let’s get moving,” Siwoo agreed, turning his back and shucking off his underwear. Jeongguk heard the familiar grunt and cracking of bones, the pained noises as Siwoo began to shift. Hyukjae rounded the tree to shift, and Minwoo did the same, all of them giving each other respective space to undergo the ugly process of shifting. Jeongguk ditched the last of his clothing, and then he knelt down on the ground slowly.
The shift was always uncomfortable and painful, even though being in wolf form felt natural. His bones shifted on their own accord at his will, ribs cracking slightly with every passing second. His head felt like it was ready to explode from the pressure of shifting as his face changed, as his snout developed. His skin crawled as his fur came in, and his blood felt like fire in his veins as his very physical make-up changed. But then his paws hit the snow, and Jeongguk immediately shook out his entire body, pawing at the snow on the ground in delight.
Freedom.
Jeongguk let out a naturally happy yip, dropping to the ground and rolling around to acclimate to the environment around him, and then he stood and shook himself out again, snow flying off his fur. In wolf form, his fur was entirely black, but he had some obvious bands of red around all four of his legs and a patch near his throat. He trotted over and nudged his clothes closer to the hollow notch in the tree where they left their belongings. From around the other side of the tree, three wolves emerged, one of them clutching the handle of a satchel in his mouth. Hyukjae roughly shoved the strap of the satchel over Minwoo’s head, letting it hang around his neck, and then Jeongguk moved closer, nudging Hyukjae with his nose.
This way.
“how’s that?” ←→ jóhann jóhannsson
And the nighttime journey began. Jeongguk led with Minwoo beside him, Hyukjae and Siwoo close behind as they headed north towards the scent. Every now and then, Jeongguk bent and sniffed around, Soojin’s rosemary scent burned into his brain from the piece of fabric Seokjin had given him, but there was nothing. Jeongguk didn’t want to fear that she was long dead, but there were times when it felt hopeless. Still, Seokjin was a twin, and his instincts said that Soojin was still alive. Jeongguk couldn’t fault that.
The journey was arduous. It was several hours on foot at night, accommodating for breaks to eat and drink. It wasn’t until what had to be around midnight or close to it when Jeongguk finally bristled, fur standing on end as he came to a complete halt. He lifted his nose from the ground, where he had been following the scent of death for hundreds of miles. Beside him, Minwoo let out a low growl, nose twitching, and Hyukjae came up beside Jeongguk with a huff, nudging him. Jeongguk bent with his snout close to the snowy ground again, and immediately, he swore he could feel the pulse of the earth as it carried the souls of the dead through its roots.
They were close.
Jeongguk lifted his head, a cold breeze ruffling his fur, and then he shifted directions to the right, his pack following. They were closing in on the right area, the moonlight their only guide. The smell was overwhelming, but Jeongguk soon began to catch wind of the lingering scent of smoke the closer they got. Jeongguk wanted to bolt, knowing that he was one of the fastest in the clan in wolf form, but this was his duty. Against his initial instincts, he had to keep moving forward.
But then they started to descend down a small hill.
Run.
But Jeongguk just froze with the pack beside him. The world was deathly silent around them. Death was nothing more than an invisible vulture overhead, shrouding the midnight moon in sorrow, carrying souls off after Mother Earth was finished embracing them.
At the bottom of the slope was a camp—or rather, the burning remnants of a camp. Everything was in ruins. Fires were still burning weakly, smoke floating above the ashes of what had once been structures, possibly homes. That only confirmed to Jeongguk that once upon a very recent time, an unnamed clan or pack had dwelled here. Personal belongings were scattered everywhere, from blankets to books. Jeongguk could see splintered parts of beds and tables, a tiny infirmary without a roof anymore, dead livestock like chickens and goats off to the left. And strewn across the ground by the dozen were bodies. Dead bodies.
Jeongguk had seen carnage before, but this was on the verge of unbearable. So much beauty slain for such foolish reasons, he thought as he began to descend towards the scene, his tension high. The dirt and snow were stained profusely with dark blood, patches of fur, and even an odd body part or two. Jeongguk pressed his nose to the ground in desperation, wondering if he would be able to smell anything other than death, marveling at how there were no human bodies to be found. It seemed that everyone who had attempted to valiantly defend the camp had chosen to fight and die in wolf form rather than shift back to human form in a futile bid to survive.
My father sent us on a fruitless mission. This is nothing but carnage. A savage attack to gain territory, probably. We can do nothing at this point. The Kang clan has done its worst.
Jeongguk lifted his head and paused when he heard a soft bark to his left. From a distance in the darkness, he couldn’t quite make out who it was, but one of the three was trying to lead the pack away. It’s a lost cause. That was the message Jeongguk was receiving, which matched his thought process. But he was a leader for a reason. Frustrated, Jeongguk pawed at the ground and let out a mix between a bark and a growl in return that caught everyone’s attention. Then he pivoted to the right to cover the ground they hadn’t yet near the rocks and moss-covered cliffs, because they needed to check every inch. They couldn’t leave without being absolutely certain. With his nose to the ground again, Jeongguk began to slowly move away from the camp, trying to work around the heavy scent of death and blood—
He paused. Immediately, he crouched lower and let out a growl that felt entirely out of his control, because as a light breeze blew, he caught a whiff of a scent that wasn’t of death or blood.
It was fear.
It was fear, but it was sweet. Too sweet of a scent to belong to a corpse. Jeongguk lifted his head and let out a louder bark, one that indicated that he had found something, and the other three came running. It seemed that they, too, caught the scent the moment they were close enough. Eagerly, they all moved forward towards the rocky cliffs, and it was then that Jeongguk realized what he was looking at.
Those are not rocks.
There were rocky cliffs stretching up to the sky, blanketed in frozen moss, but Jeongguk had assumed he was looking at a small pile of misshapen rocks. They weren’t. They were grey wolves with bands of brown on their legs, all dead and scattered like a trail, blood staining the ground in rivulets, throats ripped out. Three of them.
The enemy Kang clan.
But the scent was still there. Even among the dead, Jeongguk still couldn’t shake the sweeter scent that seemed to rise above the rest. Soft, flowery, like nothing he had ever smelled before. He was used to Seokjin and Yoongi’s sweet scents, but this was different. And the closer Jeongguk got to the bodies, he realized that those bodies were leading straight to the entrance of a small cave carved into the side of the rocky cliffs.
Immediately, Jeongguk tilted his head back and howled. His adrenaline pumping, he then nudged Minwoo with his nose, encouraging the pack to move the dead wolves out of the way so that the scent wasn’t so all-consuming. Jeongguk pounced, grabbing one of them by the scruff of the neck and dragging it unceremoniously until he could fling it to the side. Disgusting. The blood of the murderers was now on his tongue. Jeongguk discarded the body to the side, but when he turned back towards the cave, all he saw and heard was commotion.
From near the cave, he could hear snarling, barking, growling. Siwoo, Hyukjae, and Minwoo were all gathered at the tiny entrance, trying to shove their heads and paws in eagerly in a way Jeongguk had never seen before, all whimpering and carrying on. Minwoo pulled his head out and ran over to Jeongguk, circling him once and barking before shoving him forward and rejoining the attempt.
Was there a survivor?
Jeongguk snarled at Hyukjae to get out of his way as he approached the entrance. It was jagged and low to the ground in an oblong shape, and were Jeongguk in his human form, the top arch of the cave’s entrance would have likely only reached his knees. It was an ideal place to hide away if one could fit in such a confined space, and it was clear that this surviving wolf could. Perplexed, Jeongguk exhaled through his snout and arched, bending lower to take a look inside.
I must be imagining things. I’m hallucinating. Death has destroyed my vision.
Because there, backed into the corner in the damp darkness, was a white wolf.
More than two centuries ago, white wolves had roamed the lands, scattered among the four unique peoples of the region. Rare in beauty but spectacular by merely existing, clan storytellers told extraordinary tales of white wolves bringing immense fortune to those around them, but beyond that, it was rumored that white wolves bred the strongest, fastest, and most intelligent offspring. Even an ounce of white wolf blood in a pup was better than nothing at all. And although white wolves had existed in each group, albeit scarcely, it was the Koyterii people who seemed to have had the most luck when it came to white wolves being born into their clan.
But greed… greed was a terrible tragedy.
Greed had triggered the devastating downfall of the majestic white wolf. Hunting and failed forced breeding had taken its toll; one by one, white wolves had been wiped out, taken from their places of safety and killed no matter the result. The Koyterii people had isolated themselves to protect their clan before vanishing into thin air, and the white wolf gene had been eradicated completely. All breeding had failed. White wolves were extinct.
But Jeongguk was looking at one.
Please show me life.
Here was life. The wolf’s beautiful white fur was stained with blood, mostly around the mouth and face. It was clear that this wolf had fought for its life, and that the three slain Kang wolves in front of the cave were likely its own handiwork. Jeongguk gently scraped one paw against the hard ground, earning him a threatening growl from the white wolf that was well-deserved on Jeongguk’s part. So with great care, Jeongguk inhaled to catch the scent again, and immediately, his paw stilled.
Not just a white wolf. A male white wolf. And an omega.
The combination was something out of clan folklore. White wolves were the subjects of the stories the elders told the pups in the clan around the fire, yet right here before Jeongguk, curled in the corner of a cave in fright and in anger, was a white wolf with the sweeter scent of a male omega.
Stunned into silence but also in a state of awe, Jeongguk did the only thing he could think to do—he gently and quietly lowered himself to a seated position, and then he lay down completely, paws in front of him, chin on the ground, knowing that above all else, white wolves were meant to be deeply respected and treated with great compassion and care. Behind him, he could hear his three packmates carrying on in confusion, but still, Jeongguk didn’t budge. His body was taking up the majority of the cave entrance, anyway, so they couldn’t get past him. Jeongguk blinked, his eyes finally adjusting to the darkness, and then all he saw was blue.
Piercing blue. Eyes in a brilliant shade that he had never seen before. The wolf was baring his teeth at Jeongguk, too, ready to take Jeongguk by the throat and add to the pile of carcasses outside in the bitter cold night, but Jeongguk refused to move. He could feel his heart pounding against the frozen, hard ground, as if his body was trying to make the footsteps that would carry him away from this scene. His mind said to run. But his instincts howled at him to stay.
Please show me life.
The white wolf continued to growl. It was intermittent, mostly whenever Jeongguk so much as breathed. Steadfast, Jeongguk remained in his position, ignoring the repetitive paws scraping at his hind legs and his tail, because if he didn’t show the white wolf respect, then there was no telling how this would end.
The growling faded. The standoff continued. The white wolf only stared at Jeongguk, baring its teeth every few minutes, but Jeongguk still refused to leave. His heart was going to burst through his ribcage, but if he fucked this up and abandoned a white wolf, possibly the only one in existence, to die in this cave, he would never forgive himself.
So he waited.
Minutes passed. Then hours. Hours. And still, Jeongguk didn’t budge. He saw the blue shades of dawn bleeding into the cave. He knew it was nearly sunrise. But he was steadfast and stubborn, even when his muscles began to ache. And then finally, after what felt like days, the white wolf shifted positions. He uncurled from his corner, ears twitching, and then he tried to move, but his whimper was full of pain. Instantly, Jeongguk knew that there was little to no chance of this wolf walking alongside them back to camp. He would have to encourage this wolf to shift to human form so Jeongguk could carry him all those miles back to the clan.
He’ll be naked.
With a bark, Jeongguk turned and wiggled out of the cave, the white wolf leaping backwards again in fright, but Jeongguk yipped at Hyukjae, Minwoo, and Siwoo, begging them to do something. They didn’t seem to understand, so Jeongguk shoved one of them towards the cave entrance to guard it, and then he bolted down to the camp, wind cutting through his fur, snow flying around his feet. In desperation, he began to search high and low through the destroyed camp, disregarding the smoldering fires and dead bodies as best as he could until he found what he was looking for—a blanket.
This will cover him.
Grabbing it between his teeth, Jeongguk dragged the tattered blanket out from under some other personal belongings and tugged hard until it was free, and then he carried it back towards the cave. His three pack mates moved out of the way as Jeongguk approached. Jeongguk hastily used his paws to shove the blanket into the cave in a frantic gesture, desperate for the white wolf to understand. I can help you. That was the message, but whether or not the wolf understood was a different story. Jeongguk watched in awe as the wolf leaned and sniffed the blanket curiously, still curled up, and then his startling blue eyes locked onto Jeongguk.
I can help you. Please let me help you.
With a gentle jaw, the white wolf used his teeth to clamp onto the blanket and pull it towards him. Jeongguk’s heart leapt into his throat in anticipation. Behind him, he could hear his three pack mates whining, desperate to assist but without any guidance. Jeongguk wiggled and began to turn until his tail end was facing the white wolf, because that was his signal. Shift to human form. There was no other way for Jeongguk to carry a survivor.
Hyukjae, Minwoo, and Siwoo all began to frantically nip around Jeongguk’s face in curiosity, but Jeongguk growled and barked at them threateningly, so they backed down. Behind him, Jeongguk could hear the whimpers and soft cries of the white wolf, and then the telling sounds of bones cracking and shifting. There was a moment of thick silence, and then Jeongguk heard the staccato sound of a shuddering breath. From his tail end, he felt the blanket move away from his body, and then he heard another soft whimper—this time, it was human.
Jeongguk turned around.
Immediately, he bent into the cave, because all he could see was an arm reaching for the blanket to pull it closer. Jeongguk clamped the blanket between his teeth and brought it closer himself, and two trembling hands grasped it. When the blanket settled, Jeongguk shimmied backwards and took a good look at the human before him.
Porcelain skin without a single noticeable blemish, like the snow on the ground. Pale blue eyes that looked like they glowed. Stark white hair with a few dark grey streaks through the sides. A white wolf in all forms, like the legends and stories said. He was sickly looking, though, and Jeongguk knew it had to be from exertion and fear. He blinked owlishly and curled in on himself when Jeongguk moved closer, so Jeongguk paused. Waited. And then moved closer again. The omega shrank as far into the corner as possible, the blanket swaddling him, but Jeongguk kept inching closer. Then he stopped and extended one paw towards the omega.
Come with me.
Whether the omega could understand his wordless gestures didn’t matter. Jeongguk begged him to understand the dire situation, that they needed to get him to safety as quickly as possible. Jeongguk could now only assume that this white wolf had been the reason for the attack, and miraculously, it seemed that only he had survived.
His entire pack was gone.
The omega began to move away from the corner of the cave. He scooted, beautiful face contorting in pain, blanket-covered hands reaching out in front of him to move. Jeongguk wiggled backwards towards the entrance of the cave, but then he stopped and held out his paw, feeling his tail moving on its own accord in excitement. How could it not? He was in the presence of a white wolf, and a male omega at that, and the human being before him was breathtaking, albeit injured and terrified. To say that Jeongguk wasn’t immediately intrigued and attracted was a lie. But right now, he had to focus on getting this man to safety.
The omega seemed to understand what Jeongguk’s outstretched paw meant. Weakly, he grabbed Jeongguk’s paw with both hands, and Jeongguk began to back up, pulling the omega with him in slow motion. His soft cries were like a stab to the heart. Jeongguk continued to pull him towards the entrance of the cave until he was at the edge, and then he plopped down sideways.
I’ll carry you.
Hyukjae, Minwoo, and Siwoo were frantic around Jeongguk, catching their first glimpse of the white wolf in his human form. Surely they could smell his non-distinct flowery scent. It was intoxicating even to Jeongguk, a scent specifically of an omega. There was no fighting their innate instincts, but Jeongguk did his damnedest, turning his head to stare at the omega.
The omega lifted one hand out of the blanket. His eyes were bloodshot. But then he opened and closed his fist twice before pressing his thumb to his chest, hands trembling.
Is he communicating with me?
But Jeongguk didn’t understand. He committed the gesture to memory, because the omega repeated it, his breathing more like wheezing, dirt under his fingernails, skin pale.
“H…He…” the omega attempted, but it was nothing more than a faint whisper that faded fast. Jeongguk let out a soft bark, nothing threatening, hoping that the omega would understand. And he did. Tears trickling down his cheeks, the omega crawled closer to Jeongguk, and then he reached out and grabbed Jeongguk’s fur, trying to pull himself up. Jeongguk barked in the direction of his pack mates, and instantly, they all circled around the omega, using their snouts to nudge him up into place on Jeongguk’s back, blanket and all to protect his modesty.
Minwoo let out a very specific bark that indicated a homeward-bound trip. Jeongguk agreed. It was inevitable that this was the only survivor. Everything else smelled like nothing more than death and decay. Jeongguk slowly stood up, and he felt two hands clutching his fur around his neck and two knees clamping around his body to remain in place. In any other situation, Jeongguk would have been positively dizzy, his wolf wild. But right now, he had a job to do. He had to make it back to camp with this white wolf alive. And the journey was going to be long.
The omega tightened his grip when Jeongguk began to walk. Jeongguk felt the omega’s head moving and a nose against his neck, like he was trying to get a grasp on Jeongguk’s scent to determine if he was safe or if he needed to dig deep to find the fight left in him and escape.
Jeongguk had to move quickly.
If anyone from the Kang clan caught even a whiff of this white wolf, they would attack. Now he regretted not having anything to mask their scents. Jeongguk had seen several dead bodies of Kang clan wolves, but the clan was large. Kang Gunmin was still in charge, and once Jeongguk got the omega to safety, he could get the entire story. Surely this white wolf had seen the gates of hell open before him as the Kang clan came down the hill to slaughter his people.
Jeongguk broke into more of a trot, knowing that they were going to forgo food and drink in favor of getting back to camp. The blanket remained wrapped around the omega. Hyukjae, Minwoo, and Siwoo flanked Jeongguk protectively, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to disrupt their journey. And Jeongguk repeatedly felt careful fingers threading through his fur, the sign of a soul holding on for dear life, as he left behind the carnage that was once this white wolf’s clan.
✶ ☽ ✶